


Roommate

by Amaya_Ithilwen



Series: Collection of RVB-OneShots [13]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Canon-Typical Humor, Canon-typical jokes, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-12 01:57:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3339479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amaya_Ithilwen/pseuds/Amaya_Ithilwen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simmons moves out because Grif has one huge chaos. First Grif enjoys to be rid of the nerd. But soon, he's getting restless. And acutally cleaning up his side of the room for once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roommate

“Bah! Grif, what’s that?” “Some old boxers, missed the bin.” “For about half a kilometer. What the heck did you do with them?” “Trust me, you don’t wanna know it.” Simmons only made a disgorging sound while lifting up that thing whit his foot and maneuvering it in the bin. “How about cleaning up for once?”

Simmons was going on Grifs nerves with that forever. They had to share a room together as Sarge ordered them, because he needed one separate room for Lopez. Why ever a fucking robot needed a separate room?! So Grif and Simmons were stuck in this mess Grif made. Simmons just moved in and somehow tried to get something like cleanliness in this room. But that was pretty difficult with such a roommate. “Nah, too much work.” Answered de orange soldier, laying on his bed, arms behind his head and eyes closed. He wasn’t in the mood to argue.

“You’re living in an absolute mess!” “And? I’m fine with.” “But not me! How about having a bit of tidiness?!” “Hey, I’m looking that your side isn’t affected. This here is my space. Here can I do what I want.” “But here’s also the way I need to take to get from my bed to the door!” “Well, your problem. Be happy I don’t ask a fee for passing here.” “You know what? Fuck you. Drown in your mess, but I won’t drown with you!” The Cyborg reached under his bunk and took out a sea bag where he now was stuffing his things in.

“What are you doing?” “I’m moving out, isn’t that obvious?” “Where do you want to go? We have no room left.” Simmons hesitated a moment before again taking up the stuffing. “I’m moving to the blues. Washs way of cleanliness and leadership style are anyway much better than here.” “Wait, what?”

“I’m moving to the blues.” Simmons again confirmed and then he was out of the door and gone. Grif was laying on the bed with eyes wide and mouth open. What the actual fuck did just happen here?! Did Simmons seriously move out or was he just trying to make Grif clean up? Now getting up, leaving the room and heading for the roof of the base, Grif muttered: “If that’s a joke or a silly attempt to make me clean up, I swear by god that I will fucking beat your sorry ass up for that, Simmons!” Reaching the roof and spying through the glass on the rifle, he could see that Simmons actually didn’t make a joke, nor was he trying to make him clean up. He really was leaving, heading towards the base of the blues. Well then, that meant Grif would have the whole room for himself. Yes! Returning to his room and again slumping on the bed he happily fell asleep, not being irritated by a nagging Simmons who was beefing about his chaos.

Some days later in fact, this happiness changed into petulance. Grif was irritated. Simmons had only returned for his duties and the shifts, quickly having a shower and then returning to the blue base. Donut was not really making a comment about it, he was also living in Docs house, outside the red base. And Sarge made comments about Grif now having what he wanted and if Simmons was away, he could shoot him while he was sleeping. And these things irritated hi

m even more. So one day he again just left, locking himself up in the room he and Simmons were supposed to share. Throwing his armor on the ground, laying on the bed, he stared up to the ceiling. It was about two weeks since Simmons left and Grif was sleeping terribly. Not because Sarge wanted to kill him. That was daily business since he joined here. It was… Well why was he so restless? He hated to admit it, but it was because of that fucking neurotic kiss-ass Simmons! Sitting up with a curse on his lips. Grif looked around. His mess wasn’t so bad, wasn’t it? There was an empty pack of potato chips, there some of his old and torn socks, here a tissue, there… and here… and this… and that… Okay, he had a fucking damn mess! Sighting the orange soldier got up and began to clean up. Just for this task he guessed he would be able to lay his not too much work attitude aside and clean up regularly.

First he threw all garbage in the bin, then he collected his dirty clothes to wash, the others were put aside, and lastly his armor on the chest he had on the footing of his bed. After that, he left the room, throwing the garbage-bag in the tube which led to the incinerator and the clothes in the washing machine.

After two hours his clothes were clean and dry, and the room also tidied up and vacuumed. Done with the work Grif let himself slump on the bed. Gosh, that cleaning up was pretty exhausting. He laid on his belly, already in his sleeping clothes, as it was time for and he already had showered and eaten dinner, he dozed a bit. He wasn’t tired per se, but a good nap was always good to bring the time around.

He only woke up as he heard the door closing and steps in his room. First he didn’t notice it really, but as he realized it, he jumped out of his bed. Simmons on his side of the room was looking at him puzzled because of the fast reaction. “Simmons what the fuck are you..” The rest of the words left unspoken as Grif toppled over and impended to land on his nose. But he didn’t hit the ground, the expected pain didn’t come. Instead of that, he got caught up by the maroon soldier, who then slowly brought him to his bed and sat down with him. “Whoa, slow there. Your circular flow doesn’t stand such fast movements. Even less when you were sleeping before.” “Smartass.” Mumbled Grif, still dazed from the almost collapse of his circulation.

Simmons let the comment pass by without any remark and looked around in the now clean room. “Did you actually clean the room for once or did you made Donut do it?” “Asshole.” “Well, I take that as a yes for doing yourself. Looks pretty clean.” This time there was no answer from Grif who still had a whooshing in his ears and a bit a blurred sight. So he still was more hanging in Simmons arms, leaning his head against the flesh shoulder of the cyborg. “Grif? Are you okay?” “Yeah, still a bit dizzy.” “Then lay down, it’s better four your circular flow if your heart doesn’t need to pump the blood against the gravitation.” Explained Simmons whilst gently making Grif lay on his back to support his circulation.

“It’s yours.” “Sorry? What Grif?” “The heart, it’s yours.” “Well yes, it used to be, but now it’s yours.” Simmons was confused. Was it because the circulation was still weak that he was acting like that or had it another reason? “But then it’s still yours.” “Let’s settle on our heart, okay?” “Okay.” Grif blinked several times, as one of the long strands of hair had gotten in one of his eyes. He felt halfway okay now, even though his fine motor skills were still a bit uncoordinated. So in trying to get rid of the strand, he was more slapping himself than really wiping away the strand.

Simmons gently pushed his hand aside, what made Grifs hand land in Simmons neck. Obviously, he hadn’t been able to stop the speed of his movement as he had already lift his hand and again wanted to make an attempt to wipe away the strand. Grif really was okay by now, he just hated it when his body was not reacting as he would have liked to. But his mind was back to normal. So he finally had to let Simmons wipe away the strand that was stinging in his right eye like a bitch. But at least he was able to see again something as he blinked away the tears the hair had provoked. And what he saw was Simmons. His face hovering directly over his, observing him with the red and the green eye. Grif had also a green one. The one of Simmons, which was replaced by the robotic one.

There was a long silence between them where each was scanning the face of the other for any indicators of uneasiness. But here was none. Whether in the face Simmons, nor in that of Grif. The only thing Grif noticed was, that Simmons face was getting closer and closer by every second. He was yielding to the soft pressure of Grifs hand in his neck. As their noses touched, Simmons tried to pull away, but Grif was faster. Intensifying the pressure in Simmons neck and reaching up, he captured the lips of the cyborg. At least they weren't artificial. So instead of tasting metal oil and silicone, he tasted Simmons unique flavor. He tasted like spring, a bit salty like the water of the sea and the scent of oil was in from his mechanical parts. Grif would never admit it, but actually he held it dear that Simmons made this for him what he did. That he gave him his body parts, even though Sarge said it was waste of time and resources. But he hadn’t hesitate to give him these parts he needed to survive. If he wouldn’t have, Grif would be dead.

Simmons first was completely taken aback about Grif pulling him closer. He had been into just looking at Grif, following the lines and scares in his face, that he didn’t notice it, that he was coming closer and closer. So only as their noses touched, the redhead realized it and tried to pull away. That was way too close! Not that this proximity was unwished, but it was… it was just too close!

But before he was able to really pull back, he felt Grif intensifying the grip around his neck and like he was leaning up and catching his lips in a kiss. First Simmons jerked. He hadn’t expected Grif to do that. But there he was, pulling Simmons down, while his lips never left his. The other hand was now sneaking around his waist, pulling him slowly closer.

It took the cyborg some moments to actually proceed what the fuck was going on here. Grif was kissing him. Grif was fucking kissing him! It was, the same as with the touches, not unwelcome to him, but it still felt somehow weird. They were roommates, best buddies and stuff. And they were both men. But the last fact hadn’t stop Simmons noticing that he was longing for Grif. That was just because of that fucking canyon. Except of crazy girls or Grifs sister in the blue team there had been no girl around for years. So no wonder you slowly begin to take other possibilities in consideration. And Simmons wasn’t also really capable of talking to girls without his voice snapping over. So yeah…

 He also almost missed it as Grifs tongue ghosted over his bottom lip, asking for entrance. Now the ginger finally seemed to be able to proceed the information and what was going on. Replying the kiss, opening his mouth and letting Grif explore the mouth cave of him, he then completely gave in the feeling of him and Grif kissing each other. Soon after, Grif nudged the tongue of Simmons, what he replied now a bit faster as he followed Grifs tongue inside his mouth cave, where they began to dance with each other.

Grifs head felt light and it was like spinning as he felt that Simmons was responsive to his kiss, even kissing back and now deepening it a bit. Carefully, both hands of the ginger found their way up Grifs head, where he carefully braced his weight on to not crush him. Said man made a low chocking sound because of the lack of air, before he lessened the grip around Simmons neck and separated from him to get new air. Also the cyborg was breathing heavily as he was gasping for air. But Grif didn’t let him get more than the oxygen he needed to not suffocate.

Just as Simmons thought he would have caught his breath halfway to say something, the orange soldier again pulled him down, again kissing him. Simmons had wanted to say something, but that was immediately forgotten as he felt Grifs lips on his anew. And this time he didn’t hesitate to kiss his roommate back. Changing his position slightly to not make too painful contortions, he suddenly felt Grifs hand on his hip, gently making him sit on his lap.

Carefully and slowly, the ginger did as indicated, as they again had separate to get some air in. Their breathing was heavy, but it didn’t seem as if Grif wanted to go any further. He was pulling down the redhead, nuzzling his face in the red hair of the maroon soldier. Simmons wasn’t really able to move without hurting Grif, and Grif didn’t seem to mind it when he was laying atop of him. Simmons only heard him muttering after they caught their breaths: “Let’s get some rest.”

Simmons hummed a groggy “Mhm” before he laid his head on Grifs chest and soon fell asleep to the beat of their heart.


End file.
